Future Study
by smolder
Summary: "The scientist wasn't even looking at her this time, instead he was staring at the slowly melting ice. "A few we froze as soon as they were created - for future study."" Post-Transformers 2
1. Chapter 1: Rebels of the Sacred Heart

Chapter One: Rebels of the Sacred Heart

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I believe "Transformers" belongs to Hasbro but I think Mikaela's character began in the Michael Bay Movies so *shrug* on the rights front.

A/N 1: Title is a song title by the band Flogging Molly.  
A/N 2: Reviews are Good. This has been a subtle hint from the author - Please return to your regularly scheduled reading.

* * *

Mikaela swallowed hard awakening slowly, her mouth dry, her body feeling stiff and distant. Eventually she willed herself to open her eyes. The celling wasn't familiar to her – it wasn't her bedrooms, nor Sam's, or even the high grey support beams that she knew from waking up at the Autobot's base.

Slowly she turned her head scanning the room – and a shiver fell over her when she saw the camera in the far corner. She became fully awake in that instant, adrenaline flooding through her.

Not only had she been taken but she was being watched.

She scrabbled upright, off the bed, tripping in the blankets in her haste. She pressed herself into the opposite corner from the two doors in the room, her back hard against the plain wall and her eyes trained on the blinking red light. Only then did Mikaela very deliberately force herself to steady her breathing, her shaking, try to remember what happened.

She had just gotten in from work and had checked her messages finding a few from Sam. She had happily listened to his offer to come over that evening to hang out at the house with Bee and him. Perhaps a movie and a drive – it was what they usually did on Fridays and she had smiled feeling the stress bleeding off her. A night with her boys was just what she needed after the week she had had.

She texted Sam immediately that she was on her way and then began walking. The others chided her for walking through the parts of town that she did but Mikaela always brushed it off – she had grown up here, she knew how to handle herself.

So it was while she was strolling watchful, but not scared, past the familiar alleyways that she felt a prick at her neck, she had stopped and reached up – and had time to pull the dart out and look at it uncomprehendingly before blackness overtook her.

Now she reached up to the same spot feeling a bandage there. Not moving her eyes from a stare off she could never win she ripped it off, never flinching as it pulled at her skin. With a shaking hand she reached to touch the area – making this nightmare real in her mind.

_It had been a way she had walked dozens of times. _

Her daily movements were ridiculously easy to track for anyone who cared to try she realized now, her hand pressing harder against the small puncture wound where the dart had hit her neck – ignoring the pain. She _wanted_ the pain, it seemed to help clear out the drowsiness that was still trying to weigh down her brain – the drug probably she realized with another pang.

She had to wonder at the bandage though. It spoke of someone looking her over – for damage perhaps, but in this circumstance nothing felt that innocent. Her clothes where all still on (her torn up black jean jacket – covered in old oil stains despite multiple washings - over plain tee and blue jeans) but Mikaela was very aware from being amongst Autobots so often that most Cybertronian scans could be done without her knowledge - that was considered unethical of course but she figured _kidnapping_ probably was too.

And anyone who would go to all of this trouble of taking her so carefully would already _know_ about the Transformers - at least enough. Mikaela was acutely aware that outside of her connection to the giant autonomous alien robots all people saw was a pretty girl from the bad part of town. The only reason she got a second glance was to make sure she wasn't following the same path her father did….or to watch the sway of her hips.

_So they'll try and get information from me_, she concluded. That was alright. She had dealt with interrogation before and she would again. She held just as much loyalty for the Autobots as her father, they were much more her family than blood these days anyway - although she was positive they had no idea of the fact.

_Or maybe they're going to use me as a hostage, _a darker part of her whispered. And she feverently tried to squash even the thought of that. She hated the idea of being used to manipulate her friends in that way.

So caught in her morose thoughts and her death stare with the camera that it startled her badly when one of the doors opened.

"You woke up earlier than I thought you would, Mikaela," the man said smiling at her warmly. But there was something wrong with the smile, something missing. He looked normal enough brown hair scattered with grey and a slim build under the blue button up and long white coat.

He held his clipboard and watched her, and seemed perfectly happy to wait patiently for her to answer. He could wait forever than though because she had almost unconsciously shifted into a mode she knew well from when she was young. When you were trapped by an authority figure say as little as possible (if you knew information, it was dangerous - and if you didn't it wouldn't matter because they would never believe the car thief's daughter anyway) and keep your eyes and ears wide for any scrap they drop because it might be useful later.

What worried her most of all now though was how he was looking at her – not how she had learned to get used to men looking at her since she had hit puberty and not the way the cops did either. It was something else, something colder and distant.

As if a select amount of time had passed he just nodded and made a note, that easy smile still fixed on his face.

"I'm, Dr. Pratchett," he said. Again he waited but she refused to answer, unease curdling in her gut as another note was made at her lack of response.

"I," he continued, pointing to himself in obvious pride, "am the Head Researcher of the project you are to be a part of. You have no choice in this. But, I believed it polite that you be made aware now that no one will come for you. Your basic needs will be met and we will not harm you as long as you remain cooperative."

The smile had stayed and paired with his matter of fact tone, she fought not to be scared or at least not to show her fear of this man. She had faced much worse – she was almost sure she had.

"Do you have any questions?" he asked, ever patient teacher to unruly student.

Breaking her silence (and a small part of her hating herself for it) she whispered, "Why are you so sure they won't look for me?"

"Our teams were very thorough, Mikaela," he said condescendingly. After you failed to come last night Samuel will assume you blew him off. A few days later worry will set in but when he breaks into your trailer, all he'll find are all of your things are gone and only a letter has been left. And no doubt who it is from either, our forgers know your handwriting thoroughly. It will be easy for him to accept – he never thought he was good enough for you," the smile looked malicious now but she refused to turn away, didn't care if there were tears blocking her vision.

All the _good doctor_ did though was tilt his head and make another notation, and she felt her fingers curl in anger.

"Any other questions?" Dr. Pratchett asked pleasantly.

"Yes," she said in a strong, even tone, that surprised herself. "What is this project?"

"Ah! Excellent question," he exclaimed sounding genuinely pleased. "It's best to start right away." Turning his head he looked into the camera Mikaela had been glaring at earlier. "Send it in," he stated.


	2. Chapter 2: Come Pick Me Up

Chapter Two: Come Pick Me Up

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I believe "Transformers" belongs to Hasbro but I think Mikaela's character began in the Michael Bay Movies so *shrug* on the rights front.

A/N 1: Title is a song title by Ryan Adams.  
A/N 2: Reviews are Good. This has been a subtle hint from the author - Please return to your regularly scheduled reading.

* * *

"What is it?" she asked still on the opposite side of the room where she had refused to budge from even when he gave an impromptu tour of her little cage (including bathroom - the second door - during which time he was utterly out of her sight for a few seconds). She even refused to rise when the main door opened again two men in labcoats entered caring something. Mikaela was to distracted by their escort - the three heavily armed men that had watched her carefully as if she was going to use this moment as an opportunity to run.

(She knew not to. The threat of being shot was barely a deterrent - The Doctor had been much more frightening all on his own. Somehow she thought it would be much better to catch a bullet than to be in his mercies if she tried to run.)

Now he was just giving her his first frown - oddly it didn't feel threatening, more as if he was just disappointed in her. Mikaela found she preferred it to the fixed smile.

"Is it a Decepticon?" she voiced her real worry upon first seeing the vague shape of sharp metal angles through the block of ice. It wasn't very big but she remembered Frenzy and the trouble he was able to wrought despite his small size.

"It was created while we still had possession of the Cube at the Hoover Dam base," Dr. Pratchett stated evenly. But it was more what he didn't say that caught her attention. The lack of mentioning anyone involved, Sector Seven, any branch of the military, or the Autobots. It made her wonder who was backing him.

"I thought they were all killed," she stated through clenched teeth. Remembering the horror of watching the macabre demonstration - the cell phone made into a little life and then shot in front of them. And with great difficulty she refrained from running her thumb over the scar in the middle of her palm. She wouldn't give such tells in a place with so many cameras.

The scientist wasn't even looking at her this time, instead he was staring at the slowly melting ice. "A few we froze as soon as they were created - for future study."

Mikaela let her expression become a mask and held herself steady, she refused to let it show how much those words told her – of how he saw the Cybertronians and probably her (_all useful as long as they benefited his experiments. The moment they didn't….). _But she also refused to be cowed by the knowledge.

She stood and walked over to kneel in front of the block of ice and used the edge of her jacket sleeve to wipe the frost off. When she had a clear view she took her time observing the gentle slope of it's head, the antennas, the long neck and spidery fingers.

Perhaps after being around the Autobots for so long Mikaela no longer found such features alien, or at least not in any way off putting or scary. She found herself smiling instead. "Well, it's quite a lovely little bot, isn't it?" she murmured to no one in particular.

She could feel his stare at her for a long long time. She did not look up.

Eventually he left without another word.

Almost instantly her body relaxed and she let out an unsteady breath. She flung her jacket off and slouched against the block of ice letting her body's warmth help melt it as well - utterly uncaring of the fact that she was soaking her clothing.

As she waited for ice to melt (the weird step-cousin of sayings to watching a pot boil) Mikaela tried to figure out what it was that she was supposed to be doing with a Transformer.

* * *

When it was melted up it's head she saw optics flicker on and Mikaela stroked the delicate head and cooed encouragingly.

"Such pretty eyes, too," she said brightly – the first thing that popped in her mind. She knew was babbling dumbly but she going for comfort and hoping desperately that it could understand her – and even if it couldn't than it would understand her tones. Her mind could not imagine being created, instantly frozen, and then thawed – so she stopped trying. Instead she just figured it (and she hated referring to the adorable little bot as an "it" but she clearly remembered Ratchet trying to explain the multitude of sexes Cybertronians had and she didn't want to stick on labels where she shouldn't) was very young – practically newborn – and for all of their differences in species there would be some similarities.

So, Mikaela would be working on instinct here. She really hoped that worked - especially since, being two different species their instinct could very well be entirely different.

It made a whining sound and her heart ached because she knew from Bumblebee the level of pain that represented. She was just going to stop over thinking it starting now. It had no one but her - she knew very well the level of sympathy it could expect from those scientist and she was not going to allow that. She could do this, she could.

"Oh, Lovely, what's wrong dear?" she asked anxiously. But _of course_ even it could understand her there was no way it would be able to speak yet.

Then her arms flexed on where they still rested on the ice and she could almost hit herself for how stupid she was, she knew how badly the bots reacted to cold. "Oh, you poor thing. I'm the biggest idiot in the world. Your freezing, aren't you?" The answering whine was affirmative as well as piteous and instantly made her next decision for her. She didn't care if she got in trouble for it later – she hadn't been expressly told she could speed up the melting process.

"I'm going to pick you up," she warned right before she did. There was no way the little transformer could have stopped her in it's mostly frozen state but she felt it right to warn it none the less.

It made another noise as they both rose and she made sure her grip was firm as she made her way to the bathroom that had been indicated earlier. Silently grateful the door was still opened. Once inside she set her precious armful down on the floor again where it instantly began whining.

"Shhh, it's alright I'm still here," she said comfortingly. "Just making it nice and toasty," she grinned. And she did. Closing the door she bumped up the heating control on the wall as far as it would go and walking over to the shower turned it on hot as well. The room quickly became sauna like and she was forced to strip down to jeans and her bra. Which she did – resolutely ignoring the camera that resided in this room too.

But her plan served her well because the ice was no match for the heat and steam and the little bot made such delighted trilling sound when it was free that she had to laugh with joy as well. And when it reached for her - utterly guileless, like a child wanting to be picked up and having no expectation that it wouldn't she did so automatically resting it's small sharp body against her. Long arms wound around her neck and it's head rested tiredly against her chest – bright white eyes watching intently as she turned the temperature back down and opened the bathroom door a crack again letting the steam out.

Even though she had tried to ease the change in temperature it still burrowed against her when they exited the bathroom. Mikaela absentmindedly started humming as she reached for a blanket to pull around them both.

It bothered her how drained the poor thing seemed. She hated how little she knew - was it normal for it to be so exhausted after being frozen for so long? She knew that the Autobots had a few ways of gathering energy. But their was no energon or fuel available here - and she highly doubted anyway that it's secondary form was any sort of vehicle.

"Do you have a way of getting energy?" she finally just asked. A tired sound very like a sigh and a plug was expelled. Mikaela almost laughed at the simplicity of it that she had skipped over - but of course although she didn't know it's alt form yet she did know it came from Earth technology. She looked around the room and was surprised to actually see an outlet.

Mikaela shook her head, _of course there was_. You would thing they could put it on the same side of the room as the bed.

"We'll lay over there tonight then," she declared grabbing a pillow to go along with the blanket. She laid down on her back close to the wall, with the little bot on top of her and plugged it in.

"Are you able to convert it alright?" she asked anxiously and it hummed approvingly.

The lights in the room shut off abruptly then causing her to be forcefully reminded that they were being constantly watched – although that had never truly left her thoughts.

As they lay there in the dark she saw the little head rise and the glow of optics watching her. "What's your name?" she asked feeling silly that she had never thought to ask before. In her defense she _had_ been a bit busy.

A croaking sound came, a voice box trying to work, before she heard it say, "Lovely."

"Yes, that's what I called you," Mikaela said smiling and stroking it's head. "But what's your name?"

It only tilted it's head, long delicate neck stretching to studying her intently (it's pure white eyes somehow holding all the warmth Dr. Pratchett had lacked and so much more) before saying again, "Name. Lovely."

And Mikaela laughed. "Alright. Alright, your name is, Lovely."


	3. Chapter 3: Easily Bruised

Chapter 3: Easily Bruised

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I believe "Transformers" belongs to Hasbro but I think Mikaela's character began in the Michael Bay Movies so *shrug* on the rights front.

A/N 1: Title is a song title by the band Matthew Barber  
A/N 2: Reviews are Good. This has been a subtle hint from the author - Please return to your regularly scheduled reading.

* * *

She was awoken from dreams of the familiar hum of engines and gently glowing blue by an eruption of chaos. The lights went on at the same moment the door was opened – and Lovely let out a high pitched noise that caused her ears to pop, pulling it's arms from their position they had stayed around her neck throughout the night with such speed that she felt the right slice across her skin. She yelped in pain even as she automatically curled her body around the smaller one, trying to offer what protection she could.

With one look she could tell what was wrong. "Get out," she hissed, over her shoulder not even turning to look at whoever had intruded in her cell.

"Now, now, Ms. Banes. Let's not be rude," she heard the doctor say in his ever patient tone.

And Mikaela had to pause for a moment, close her eyes and take a deep breath, because she knew what this looked like to_ her_. The instant human equivalent her brain had made when she saw how Lovely had flinched away from light and sound, curling it's long arms protectively around antennas. But _she_ had no problem equating human pain and emotion to Lovely – she very much doubted those cold eyes boring into her back even afforded their fellow humans that much. (_Except as something to be noted on his clip board_.)

So, she didn't think he was going to be sated with the – _come back later, Lovely's got a killer migraine - _explanation. Where yesterday she had worked completely on instinct now she very carefully thought it through, trying to figure out how to say it so that Dr. Pratchett would understand what she had almost instantly. She would be totally talking out of her ass of course but she had done that before - and she was almost positive she could bullshit this.

She just needed to remember enough from Ratchet's talks to make it sound good enough so that he would leave them alone. Mikaela took a deep breath and tucked the blanket over Lovely's head before she stood.

And because she had taken her time, her voice was the same strong, calm tone from yesterday when she faced him. When she started talking he actually seemed to listen, the two men with guns were staring as well (although that might have had more to do with the fact she was still in just her bra and jeans – and now a slowly bleeding cut down her shoulder).

Mikaela ignored them, and concentrated on the doctor, he was the only one that was important in this situation, the one making the decisions. "Now that the bot is charged it's sensors are fully online for the first time. It went to being practically deaf to having to much input to handle," she said keeping eye contact.

"You think you can help with that?" the smile was back across his face. Mikaela didn't answer. What else could she do? _And wasn't that what they wanted anyway?_

"Lovely," he noted as her silence dragged. Again, she didn't get his point. Was it to push home even harder the fact that he was watching – that they would hear everything she said? Or to tease her at the particular name? She wasn't sure so she just stayed quite trying not to show how the barely muted pained noises coming from the pile of blankets pulled at her.

"You name the being yet you still use the pronoun 'it?'," he finally came out and asked the question she figured he was truly curious about, with a tap of his pen against the clipboard. And there was something oddly testing in his tone. But Lovely's long arm had reached out and curled around her ankle entreatingly. And that horrible sound had gotten louder, she saw the men with guns getting twitchy. Mikaela badly just wanted them gone. Now.

And she didn't see how this was sensitive information anyway. The Autobots had never treated it as such.

"They have many more options than we do, Doctor – they only narrow down to male and female here for our sakes. I already accidentally chose a name for Lovely, I don't want to pick out any more of it's identity," she said as blandly as possible given the circumstances.

Then he smiled – an actually pleased expression that almost reached his eyes this time. And that seemed strange to her; all of this did. The more hours she spent here the more she simply abandoned any hypothesis she originally had on why she had been taken. Because Dr. Pratchett never asked any questions about the Autobots.

He never tried to trick her into revealing their numbers, weapons capabilities or the location of the base. He clearly craved information but it seemed to be about Cybertronians in general. She had no way of being sure just yet (God, was it only her second day in this room?) but it appeared that all he wanted was to _watch her_ – to gain information by studying her interactions with the Cube created little bot. And Mikaela honestly didn't get where the endgame was in that.

She hated that blank. That lack of knowledge. There was so much she didn't know - and it felt dangerous.

But for whatever reason, Dr. Pratchett was satisfied now and gestured to his escort and towards the door, "We will return in an hour. After you have calmed the subject, my colleagues and I will examine it."

"I'm going with, Lovely," she stated immediately, stubborn and immovable. Mikaela hadn't just defrosted a baby Transformer to let them harm it.

"Of course," he said with a nod of his head like their would never be an expectation otherwise, his hand moving to make a notation without ever looking down (and she felt her hatred of him move up a notch). "While you are "out" our wonderful personnel will move some of your belongings in here. And leave you some food."

Mikaela continued to stare at his pause. Was he really expecting her to _thank_ him or something? Finally, he held his clip board to his chest and gave her a nod.

"An hour, Mikaela," were his words of parting before the three left. She stayed tense and wary until the door had closed behind their backs. She knew that his physical presence was just a minor part, that the camera in the corner was another pair of eyes (another pair of eyes connected to _him_) on her back. But she couldn't help the way she reacted - and she trusted it.


	4. Chapter 4: Comfort Eagle

Chapter Four: Comfort Eagle

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I believe "Transformers" belongs to Hasbro but I think Mikaela's character began in the Michael Bay Movies so *shrug* on the rights front.

A/N 1: Title is a song title by Cake.  
A/N 2: Reviews are Good. This has been a subtle hint from the author - Please return to your regularly scheduled reading.

* * *

"Lovely," she whispered her hand hovering uncertainty as she knelt beside the pile of blanket, wincing at the decibel of the noise that was somehow shriller the closer she had gotten. "I know it hurts but your making it worse for yourself. You've gotta quite down a bit."

Instantly the sound shut off, Mikaela's eyebrows went up in surprise. "Huh," she said with a quirk of her lips, thoughtfully letting her hand finally rest on top of the lump in the covers, "glad you took my word for it."

A small head ducked out to look at her before going back under with a hiss.

"Yeah," Mikaela murmured in agreement. "You'd think they would at least turn the lights back off."

Although the noise which she guessed was the Transformer equivalent to a babies cry had stopped their were still whimpers of pain and although she wanted to help she was a bit stumped. Finally irritated at her inaction she just went ahead and picket Lovely up blankets and all.

"Don't know about you, hon," she said in a forcibly light hearted tone, "but I'm tired of the floor."

Mikaela brought them over to her bed in the corner lying back and making the blanket into a small tent around them. Lovely automatically settled with it's head onto her chest again reminding her of a child wanting comfort.

"Here we go now," she whispered. "See, it's alright, we can do this," _God, Mikaela who are you trying to convince?_ she squashed the thought as soon as it crossed her mind, focusing wholly on the little creature that needed her. There was not time for second guessing herself right now.

"Just try to block...," a horrible moan was her answer. "...you can't then," she voiced the obvious response. And looked again at the little bot and it's position against her, an idea came to mind - one she went with instantly. "Well," she continued with barely a pause, "if you can't block everything else out than you'll just have to concentrate on one thing." Those white eyes were watching her desperately as if she was the only solid thing in the world. Lovely trusted her in an utterly complete way Mikaela wondered if she had ever possessed. She actually wasn't sure if humans were able to.

She couldn't look away now though, couldn't falter under that stare.

Mikaela stroked her hand over it's head again and the arms held tighter, head burrowing into her chest. "That's right," she murmured. "You hear that sound right under your head? That's my heartbeat. Just close those beautiful optics, Lovely. The whole universe right now is you and me under this blanket - don't try for any more than that. Just train all of your sensors on my heart beat."

She missed the light the moment it was gone. It soon became stuffy but she didn't move, because this seemed to be working. The desperate tension in the little bots metal frame was easing, the sounds had stopped almost within the first few moments. They stayed like that for a good fifteen minutes.

Finally though, the small space was again lit by two white lights.

"Good?" she asked gently, feeling free to shift her body slightly now.

"Mikaela. Female?," there was a clear questioning tone to the second word. She was working with general impression that Lovely knew everything she was saying (at least the words, if not the complete meanings which she knew could get layered, contextual and complicated). And Mikaela wasn't sure if this was knowledge came from her previous form - which was still hard for her to guess but she bet had something to do with those antennas - or an inherent knowledge. _Did Transformers get that?_

But this question came out of nowhere.

"Well...yeah," she answered lamely, glancing down at her own chest.

"Lovely. Female," there was a determined sound to it's voice.

Instantly, she understood and almost felt like laughing. Of course, even in pain, the little bot had been listening to her earlier conversation with Dr. Pratchett.

"Lovely," she finally sighed. "You shouldn't choose to me a girl just because I am."

"Why?" was the only response. And it was an honest question -_ there goes the inherited knowledge thing_, she thought wryly. But it also utterly stumped her.

"I don't know," she admitted. Because she _didn't know_ how such things were with Cybertronians - if it was something you were born with or something you chose (and if you chose at what age and what the deciding factors were). Mikaela wondered if she was actually being horribly insulting to not be able to just tell by its form.

"Female," Lovely said with a nod.

And like the night before Mikaela just gave in with a small laugh, hoping that when (_if_, a part of her whispered treacherously) she ever got out the Autobots wouldn't be to mad at her for botching raising this little one so badly.

Because that is what they had her doing she realized with an odd lurch – what they wanted to study. A human raising a Cybertronian from its creation.

She swallowed hard against the sudden press of responsibility she felt against her. Mikaela knew well how important children were to the Autobots with their world destroyed and sparks so few and precious. It didn't seem right that she was doing this.

All of the Autobots had lived for so long, seen so much. Mikaela had never stopped to imagine them as children, had somehow foolishly thought they had always been the way she saw them. But that was silly, this pointy metal body curled so trustingly in her arms was younger than her. Lovely had never seen Cybertron – had never known the War that now stretched centuries. She knew nothing of Autobots and Decepticons.

She was just a child. A baby.

Mikaela hardly knew anything about raising human children - had never honestly thought that she would ever be a mother. Had never wanted to be.

But Lovely had needed her and now she depended on her, Mikaela was going to try her hardest not to break that trust.

"We'll be all right," and quite confidence burned in her voice.


	5. Chapter 5: Breathe In

Chapter 5: Breathe In

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I believe "Transformers" belongs to Hasbro but I think Mikaela's character began in the Michael Bay Movies so *shrug* on the rights front.

A/N 1: Title is a song title by the band Frou Frou.  
A/N 2: Reviews are Good. This has been a subtle hint from the author - Please return to your regularly scheduled reading.

* * *

She has time to use the bathroom, clean the blood off the scrape on her shoulder, and grab her shirt (glad it had avoided the giant puddle from the melting ice yesterday) before the allotted hour was up. She is humming as she ties her shoes aware that Lovely, perched on the end of the bed, is watching her closely.

When the door opens, both of their heads shoot up. Mikaela reaches out an arm as she stands and a metal hand grabs it scampering up her body monkey-like until she is clinging to her shoulders, head buried in her hair.

The two armed men are a bit wide eyed, apparently not nearly as comfortable around sentient robots as the unflappable Dr. Pratchett. It makes her smile, pushes her usual confidence forward.

"Are we ready to go, gentleman," she asks perfectly polite.

That startles them into action, they motion her forward but she can see one blush when she walks by. She wonders if they have any idea of why she is here – if they actually know what is on her shoulder – or if they're simply just two men that have been assigned a job.

Her temporary feelings of slight, if not goodwill than at least, indifference towards them evaporate when she sees that instead of a gun one of them is carrying a canister similar to a fire extinguisher but the writing on the side reads: _liquid nitrogen_.

She swallows hard and her hand goes to Lovely automatically. The bot makes a questioning tone but Mikaela doesn't respond, she takes a deep breath and keeps walking. (And she _almost_ doesn't notice as she passes the door frame, how incredibly thick the wall is – but that is something to think about later.)

And apparently the door of her room leads directly to a hallway, grey, wide and brightly lit – with those ever present cameras. The first room they pass is filled with over a dozen people in lab coats who all look up when she passes. She sees banks of screens showing differing views. She only has time to really see one clearly at the speed they are walking but feels distinctly uneasy when she realizes it was her bathroom.

They pass more rooms: people working with chemicals, welding, most just at desks typing and shuffling through papers. But every time they look up and _stare_.

It is not hard now for her to understand why she was so effortlessly allowed out of her room with Lovely. This is all supposed to cow her – and it is hard not to let it. Mikaela had not realized the size and scope of the facility she was kept in before this. And she has the sinking feeling that it is all based around one project, one goal.

_Her._

This is not something she will be getting out of easily.

At the end of the hall they are ushered into an elevator, the numbers are flipped. She frowns at them before the she realizes the obvious answer.

"We're underground," she murmurs.

No one answers her but she didn't really expect it from her silent escort.

The weight on her shoulder is comforting, keeps her grounded and pushes away her mounting panic. Lovely needs her. She can do this.

There is a welcoming party, of a sort, for her when the elevator doors open. Two more scientists on either side of Dr. Pratchett. An older black man with what she almost thought of as the required genius crazy hair and glasses who seemed engrossed in his tablet and a young woman with dirty blonde hair who eyed the bit of metal actually visible with the way Lovely was hiding, hungrily.

"I'm glad you could make it, Mikaela," Dr. Pratchett said smiling. That didn't even begin to deserve a response - at this point she was pretty sure he thought he was being funny and she felt perfectly fine ignoring him and looking around the room as she entered it, her armed shadows following. She noticed the other two scientist sharing a look at their interaction – and again wondered at the _good doctor'_s position in the workplace.

This whole floor though seemed to be a lab – the size reminding her more of the Autobots hanger than something humans would use. There was a high echoing ceiling _(how far underground where they?)_ and metal tables spaced around evenly like workstations. But where the other floor was busy with people this area seemed abandoned except for the scientists and her escort.

Then she looks farther up and sees the cameras - and remembers the banks of monitors - anything happening here was watched an analyzed by another room full of people. Mikaela forcibly made herself look away.

_Looking away_ isn't much better though because five sets of eyes are on her. She sets her shoulders and stares right back.

"Place the subject on the table," Dr. Pratchett says smiling all the while, and it is only when nothing happens at his request that the tension in the room ratchets up.

She knows Lovely heard him and she isn't moving; Mikaela isn't going to order her to do something she doesn't want to. But then she sees the way the man with the liquid nitrogen tank tightens his hands – and while she would never tell the little bot she had to do this, she should probably let her know the danger here.

She reaches towards her shoulder for her and Lovely automatically climbs around her front to rest in her arms, looking up into her face with those glowing white optics. Crouching down she turns her back to the hard, curious eyes, Mikaela cradles the little metal body against her and they both utterly ignore the rest of the room as they talk.

"They want to look at you, Lovely," she whispers, even though she knows the whole room is listening. Even though she knows that Lovely has already heard the doctor say this. "I'm right here if you need to stop – if you _want_ to stop. But they really want to do this."

There is so much trust there (_too much_ part of her screams), looking right up at her, that even though she can see how terrified Lovely is (feel it with the way her grip will tighten and loosen sporadically) that is all the prompting she needs. A nod of her head (and even in this moment Mikaela wonders if she picked up the mannerism from her) and they are standing again.

Mikaela walks towards the table, sets Lovely down and backs away (only a step) but she hears a whimper leave her anyway. Mikaela doesn't like this at all, she has a very bad feeling about it but she also doesn't see any other option.

The three in lab coats converge and the little bot instantly shies away looking toward her for reassurance. They start to murmur and Lovely turns her head back and Mikaela watches as she tries to track their conversation - they notice too and the conversation shifts.

_She_ can't quite hear what they are saying but from their gesturing they then seem to be going over points of the transformer's anatomy – pointing to the fingers, certain joints, to….

"Don't touch her antennas," she warns right before a pointing pen could get too close and although Dr. Pratchett and the woman ignore her, the scientist with glasses' eyes flick over to her briefly before he nods.

The flash of acknowledgement is short-lived however because the next moment the female scientist jabs against the antenna on the other side of her head as if she hadn't said anything. And Lovely lets out a loud whine (_she has become far too familiar to the sound of a Cybertronian in pain_).

"Stop," Mikaela yells angrily.

But the woman again ignores her and goes to grab Lovely as if to pin her still and then Mikaela has crossed the small amount of space and grabbed the woman's wrist before she really has time to think it through. She shoves her body between them all and Lovely and with strength from years working on cars twist the woman's arm back farther when she tries to yank away – pulling her into her instead, using her as a temporary human shield against the guards who've finally seemed to remember they have guns.

"I'm sorry, Lady," she hisses, right in her face, "are you deaf or just incredibly stupid? I thought I said _stop_," and it is only then when she has given Lovely time to scramble up her back that she pushes her away roughly.

"Stay behind me," she says not even bothering to whisper. It's a gamble, but Mikaela's pretty sure the guy who blushed beneath his freckles as she walked by him would probably be a bit more hesitant to shoot her than the guy with a tank of chemicals was to freeze a bot he might not even be convinced the sentience of.

The standoff is tense then. And she really isn't surprised who breaks it.

Dr. Pratchett, seemingly unconcerned with the altercation that just took place, is instead smiling at her again. "You seem to have bonded with the subject," he says and this time he doesn't pretend to wait for her to answer before continuing. "We'll have to place the other three with you as well since you seem to be making such excellent progress."

"Sir!" it's actually the female scientist who interjects, looking back and forth between the two of them, truly alarmed, even while still holding her wrist. The other man seems a bit overwhelmed by all that has happened. "They have weapons capabilities. You can't –"

"I _can_," he says low and even drawing the word out, keeping eye contact with Mikaela the whole time.

But her fear has abandoned her apparently _– maybe she left it in the elevator_ her brain throws in crazily. And anyway if there were more frozen in ice she wanted them out as soon as possible. No child deserves that.

So instead of being intimidated she smiled right back soft and gentle and raised a hand to stroke the little head still buried in her hair. "You hear that, Lovely," she cooed, "you're getting some friends".

Inside a part of her marked a point on her side of the board when she saw incredulity on Dr. Pratchett's face. Pushing her momentum forward she continued, "I will need a few things."

"We've placed most of your belongings in your room," he stated plainly but Mikaela could see how curious he was (and how it was wholly centered on her in this moment – she felt as if she had successful diverted his attention from Lovely but that fascination made her cold) and she didn't acknowledge the fact that that meant they had cleaned out her place already – ignored the little emotional dig. (Was he trying to push her again? _Test her?)_ That wasn't what was important right now.

"More blankets. And towels," she added thinking of the large puddles still left in the bathroom this morning. With three blocks of ice melting at the same time there would be a huge mess. "And a generator," she said thoughtfully. "I don't know if a single outlet is going to be enough for all four," she concluded staring at him expectantly.

"That can be arranged," he said making a gesture to the camera she already knew was there. Mikaela instead let her eyes move over the others in the room and wondered if he noticed the uneasiness of the people surrounding him.


	6. Chapter 6: Back In Your Head

Chapter Six: Back In Your Head

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I believe "Transformers" belongs to Hasbro but I think Mikaela's character began in the Michael Bay Movies so *shrug* on the rights front.

A/N 1: Title is a song title by the band Tegan and Sara.  
A/N 2: Reviews are Good. This has been a subtle hint from the author - Please return to your regularly scheduled reading.

* * *

When she get back to the room she barely spares a glance for the fact that it looks almost nothing like the way she has left it. They have obviously very neatly cleaned out her home. There is a bookshelf (not hers - apparently they didn't feel she would have time to pack that if she decidedly to abruptly leave one day) half full of books and very familiar knick nacks and the sunflower lamp her grandmother got her when she was eight is sitting on a dresser - supposedly filled with her clothes.

Someone even put her throw rug on the floor. And sitting in the middle of it are three covered platters and plastic cups - each carefully labeled with "breakfast", "lunch" and "dinner". Apparently, she thought wryly, they really didn't want to have to come back in here. But Mikaela falls on her late breakfast with more gusto than she thought she would ever have for fruit and granola bars while Lovely explores all the new things with open curiosity.

Now full, she looks over and is pleased to see that the bed (now with her very old comforter atop it) has been moved to the side of the room with the outlet and there is a small generator and a stack of neatly folded thick blankets beside it. That must also mean…

She just barely stops from tripping over her own feet getting up and makes herself walk instead of run to the bathroom, where the three transformers have already been placed. Two in the bathtub and one on the floor because of the lack of space.

Lovely has followed her and makes a distressed sound at the sight, she starts to crawl up her body, pressing into skin a bit too hard in her panic, but Mikaela catches her and takes her back out of there, humming until she calms. She hadn't expected this reaction but maybe she should have. This hasn't exactly been the most peaceful of days and for all of her intelligence, Lovely is still incredibly young.

"Here, baby girl," she says gently sitting on the floor just outside the bathroom door. "Just let me talk to you a second, alright. We'll get them out. I got you free of that ice – remember?" And it is with that – that all the tension leaves Lovely and she collapses against her.

She relaxes as well leaning back more some more, thinking to the three right through the wall and Mikaela tries desperately in her mind to pull up any of her memories from the handful of baby sitting jobs she had been able to get growing up. (_Why couldn't she have been kidnapped by people who wanted her to fix their cars? She was actually good at that._) But instead her eyes focus again on the little one in her lap currently fiddling with her shirt – and she follows that train of thought, lets her instincts guide her yet again.

"You've been so good with language, honey. I bet you're even really far with figuring out spoken English. Right?" Lovely nodded and cooed happily as she snuggled against her practically vibrating with pride. Mikaela very carefully tilted her little head until they were looking eye to optic. "The thing is Lovely I'm not sure if the new bots coming to us are going to find it as easy gathering and filtering information," she looked again at those antennas that had so fascinated the scientists (and shoved down the anger that threatened to rise up – that was not what she needed now), keeping her guess as to what the life in her arms used to be to herself. "You might need to help them. Would you be their big sister, Lovely?"

Mikaela paused then, she didn't know it this was a concept Lovely understood. She probably knew the word but…

"Sister?" she tilted her head. Yup.

"Sisters are females – with a _bond_ to each other. They stand up for each other and," Mikaela stumbled between giving a dictionary definition and just telling her what she meant to say. Finally she sighed. "What I'm asking you Lovely is to be their big sister – I need you to help me look after them. Protect and teach them."

But Lovely was watching her consideringly again like she had this morning and Mikaela knew even before she said anything that it was going to be something difficult for her to answer.

"Lovely. Big Sister," she agreed, with a nod of her head. "Mikaela. Female. Parent. Mother?"

She had said them so fast and decisively, as if it was fact – if one was true than the rest certainly must be, that by the time she got to mother and Mikaela could hear the clear question she wasn't ready.

"I –" she began, incredibly flustered. She had thought about them as children and about how she need to care for them - was _mothering_ them - but this felt different. Was too much. Too soon. So she took a deep breath and started again. "Lovely, the three in there haven't met even me and you've only known me a day. You shouldn't choose a Mom that fast. You'll see," she smiled, a twist on her face that she hoped didn't look as bad as it felt, "I'm not quite cut out to be a mother."

Then she quickly stood ushering them into the bathroom, ignoring both Lovely's confused whine and the tightness in her chest.

* * *

Lovely is absolutely fascinated by the melting process and it makes Mikaela wonder how much she remembers from being in the ice. She hopes not a lot – Mikaela doesn't want to imagine being trapped like that, only just born, not enough power to function and so _so cold_.

She also can't blame Lovely for staring, they look very different from her – broader, boxier, yet more compact.

_Weapons_ that one lady had said.

Fuck her, fuck them all. They aren't weapons; they're _children_. She refuses to treat them any different because they have the _potential_ to do something awful, that's not the way you should treat anyone, especially kids. (No, we can't play with _her_. Mommy says she's not a good girl. Don't you _know_ who her family is?)

She goes just with the heat and not the steam this time since two are sitting in the shower and she doesn't want to panic anyone by having them come online to water falling from above. So, it takes awhile but she is right there to smile, encourage and coo for each as optics first alight.

The only difference this time is Lovely is there chattering at them from her shoulder and it is….odd. Because she has heard the Autobots talk in their language before and it _didn't_ sound like _that_. But perhaps this is just a dialect she doesn't know. There has to be many of them – look at how many humans have and Cybertronians have been around centuries longer. (Mikaela finds she is kicking herself more and more for all the things she never thought to ask questions about).

And in the same way she used to hope Lovely understood her tones, Mikaela – although she doesn't know a word of what they are saying – can tell she is comforting them, encouraging them along with her. It starts to dawn on her as she wraps a towel around one, cooing as she does so – and it mimics her, that perhaps the reason her ear doesn't recognize what their speaking as a Cybertronian language is because it isn't one.

She's seen very young human children all together – the babbling nonsense language they can make up amongst themselves yet all seem to know. Why should see assume they automatically know any real language?

So, both Lovely and her keep up a constant stream of conversation as all of the ice melts and she carries them one at a time away (leaving the door wide open and talking louder as she does so) from the giant puddles left behind.

Then they are all left sitting on her bed, all hooked up to the generator, gazing at her expectantly looking absolutely adorable, each bundled in a blanket that swamps them.

"Name," Lovely says breaking the silence.

"What?" Mikaela tilting her head just enough so that she can see her.

"Name. Sisters," she responds promptly like it should be obvious. And Mikaela is very aware of three sets of optics watching this conversation avidly.

"No, Lovely," she said firmly. "Just because I asked you to be Big Sister doesn't mean they're all going to be girls." They held a glare with each other for a moment and she heard a worried chirp from bellow her before finally the bot on her shoulder gave a sound very much like a sigh and started talking to the three very rapidly quickly.

"Male. Male. Felmale," was apparently the final decision.

Then she put one of her delicate hands under Mikaela's chin and gently tilted her head toward the shoulder she was on and said in a serious tone, "_Name_," pointing adamantly at the others with her other hand.

Mikaela snorted at her actions from earlier being mirrored and reached for the little body, hugging her in spontaneous delight. "Alright, I'll give them names you silly goose," she laughed, only realizing afterwards she had used the nickname her mother used before….(and she quickly slammed that door shut in her mind.)

But then there was still the naming.

She bites her lip uncertainty - Mikaela knows they will instantly run with whatever she gives them and wants to be careful this time. She think about how larger than life the Autobots often seem despite the fact that Bumblebee is basically her best friend. That when she sees them fighting it still takes her breath away in a mixture of awe and fear. Fear for their safety but also because when you watch metal against metal, so many times your size, trying to beat the shit out of each other just feet away from you - it kicks off something very basic in your brain, a fight or flight instinct (and there is no chance of fighting a Decepticon that might not even notice if it stepped on you).

So, she goes with the only equivalency she can grab hold of in her brain. Going back all the way to Saturday morning cartoons when the TV would be her baby sitter for hours.

_Fuck_, she thinks not looking back at the camera but very aware of it, _they're going psychoanalyses the shit out of this._

"Clark," she points first to the one wrapped around her leg that Lovely had only been able to described in her hodgepodge vocabulary as having light weapons (lasers probably she thinks). "Bruce," she names the dark plated one still watching her warily. "And Diane," she smiles at the last of the three, who was adamant about being female.


End file.
